Ryan grunted as the hook pierced is skin. Luckily he wasn't hurt too badly, his gear had done its job and taken most of the slide for him. He thought back to his bike, and how they'd stashed it in a desolate alleyway under a tarp and some miscellaneous crates an trash. The man currently sewing Ryan's stuffing back in was oddly well versed in making something disappear in plain sight.
	
	Suddenly Ryan realized he didn't know either of his rescuers names. He turned back to see the other man was shuffling awkwardly around the apartment, fidgeting with things here and there as he went. He seemed uncomfortable, which made Ryan uncomfortable. This WAS a very peculiar situation that he only now payed attention to. There was just an explosion that knocked him off his bike, yet his rescuers seemed unscathed....so why were THEY in such a hurry to make themselves scarce?

	He remembered the awkward explanation they gave him when he'd asked what happened. [i]Gas Leak[/i]. But how would they know? Maybe they just didn't want to be mixed up in whatever happened, it is very easy to catch blame out of innocence, by simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

	The sound of a glass bottle hitting the floor shook Ryan out of his thoughts.

	"Sorry." Said the pacing man as he picked the bottle up and placed it in the trash.

	The jolt seemed to wake Ryan up a bit, his heart was pounding.

	As the man plopped into a recliner, the room became quiet again.

	"I never got a chance to thank you for pulling me out of the street," Ryan said, breaking the silence. He looked back and forth at each of the men, "Thank You."